


bloodied noses

by sleepicide



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Akaashi Keiji is a Good Friend, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Friend, But also, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I hate it here, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nonbinary Character, Oikawa Tooru is a Little Shit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Piercings, Tanaka Ryuunosuke is a Good Friend, Tendou Satori is a Little Shit, The Author Regrets Nothing, Transphobia, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, deadnaming, idk why im tagging that but, tendou satori is a good friend, triggering topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26189602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepicide/pseuds/sleepicide
Summary: Taking a deep breath, Dakora calmed themselves, reminding themselves that they wouldn’t have to bother with the annoying ace any more.Famous last words.or;Dakora Lee is just a troubled kid trying to get through highschool. Enter Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutaru
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Original Character(s), Bokuto Koutarou & Original Female Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Tanaka Ryuunosuke & Original Character(s), Tendou Satori & Original Character(s), also ignore the fact that it says female character in bokuto’s dakora is enby, yall suck for not making that a tag
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hihi!! this is my first work in the haikyuu fandom :D i really hope you all enjoy it. pleeease leave feedback!! i really love reading your comments!!
> 
> also, join my discord!
> 
> https://discord.gg/SdaBf7Y

“Be safe, hun, I love you.” their mother murmured, placing a soft kiss to the top of their head. The short teen scrunched their nose, giving a soft grunt. 

“Yeah, okay. I will.” they murmured, fixing their thick jacket over their uniform, grabbing their bag and slipping out the door. 

It was still dark out, barely hitting 5 am. 

They walked a little bit, before pulling out their phone and texting their mother  _ ‘I love you too.’ _

Because Dakora did love their mother, more than anyone else in their family. 

She knew that they preferred to be out of the house before everyone woke up, and got up to help them accommodate that.

Now that they think of it, Dakora’s mother is probably the only one they love in their family anymore.

They walk to the school most mornings. Maybe takes the bus once every couple of weeks, but usually they walk.

It’s a long walk, but they manage. They usually get there on time, too.

Fukurōdani was a nice school. The teachers respected their name and pronouns, no one gave them shit for being an american, and tried to help where they could. It was good.

It was nice. Lonely, but nice. They wore the male uniform, hid their septum piercing, and were a top model student.

Or, they tried to be at least. 

That’s what matters, in Dakora’s eyes at least. That they were trying.

They ran a hand through their shaggy black hair tiredly; in all honesty, it was rather choppy, hanging around their face messily. Their mom said it made them look… how did she word it?  _ ‘Unapproachable, in a good way. It fit their aesthetic.’ _

The memory makes a grin tug at their lips, but they fight it down. It makes their heart hurt.

Dakora sighs, an ache in their chest.

They are only 16.

The school day goes normally, but right before they can exit the classroom, the teen is stopped by their sensei.

“Ah, Dakora-kun,” they had specified that if they had to use a gender-specific word, always lean masculine, “I hate to ask, but will you run this to the volleyball team?”

“Yes, sensei.” they bowed a little, smiling at the nod of thanks they’re given.

In all honesty, Dakora had never seen the volleyball team, despite going here since the school year started, which, granted, wasn’t that long ago but still. They knew they had one of the top five spikers in the country, but other than that, really nothing came to mind.

They sighed as they got to the gym doors, entering the gym, and opening their mouth to announce their presence when-

“Watch out!”

The short teen immediately flung their hand out, catching the ball by muscle memory. They moved it to where it wasn’t obscuring their face, a scowl plastered across it.

“Who in the  _ hell- _ “

“Sorry! I was trying to do a cross-court spike.” 

They looked up at the male, who had a sheepish expression on his face.

“Are you the ace?” they muttered, raising a brow, and the male nodded.

“Yup! Sure am, k-“

“For an ace, you sure fucking suck at aiming and controlling the ball.” they growled, shoving the ball and stack of papers into his chest. “These are for you.”

Without further adieu, they spun on their heel, not giving the ace’s shocked face a second glance.

_ “Fuckin bastard, that woulda broken my nose.” _ the ravenette grumbled in english, getting odd looks from passerby’s, although they didn’t really care.

Taking a deep breath, Dakora calmed themselves, reminding themselves that they wouldn’t have to bother with the annoying ace any more.

Famous last words.

Two days later, they were walking towards their home, about to put their earbuds in when they heard someone running up to them, shouting.

“Hey! Feisty-kun!”

The nickname puts them on edge, making them grind their teeth together. They turned, looking at the spiker and his apparent tag along, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there.

“It’s Dakora. What do you want?” the teen grunted, slinging their bag over their shoulder.

“Well, Dakora-kun, I got a project in one of my classes, and that project was to have a first-year fill out this form!” he waved it for emphasis, a huge grin on his face.

Dakora could see where this was going, already feeling the tell-tale signs of anger bubble in their chest as they clenched their fist, nails biting into their palms.

“Im afraid I can’t help you with that, _ace-san_.” the nickname was slightly mocking as he pouted.

“Aw! Did someone already pick you? Who was it-“

“Bokuto.” the tag along said, obviously noticing the shorter’s anger.

“-Cause I promise I’m much cooler, Dakora-kun!”

“I can’t help you, because I’m  _ not a fucking first year. _ ”

The grey haired male cringed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Oh. Sorry.”

Pinching the bridge of their nose, they sighed. “It's fine, don’t worry about it.”

“So, you’re a second year?” he asked with a tilt of his head, and for a moment Dakora wished they were a third year, just so they could say he was wrong.

“Yeah.”

“Well, our houses are actually this way so… would you like to walk together?” he tried to reconcile, grinning hopefully, and Dakora just shrugged, putting their earbuds in their bag.

“Sure, I don’t care.”

“Great! I'm Bokuto Koutaru, and this is Akaashi Keiji!” the ace chirped, and they hummed.

“Nice to meet you, Bokuto, Akaashi.”

With that, they turned on their heel and began to walk towards their house, grinning as they heard the ace sputter a moment before speed walking to catch back up with them.

“You walk real fast for a shortie, yknow.”

The second year merely snorted, rolling their eyes good naturedly.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dakora goes to the volleyball players’ practice match, and meet kuroo. though, dakora’s family causes some issues, though akaashi and his mother start their mission to help out the teen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi!! i hope you like this chapter, but its kinda long 

Walking home with the two volleyball players wasn’t too bad. Bokuto was talkative, and Akaashi was kindly quiet, but they were nice company. They tried to include them in their conversations, simple things like getting to know them and getting them to come to their volleyball game.

“I’ll think about it.” Dakora murmured, despite already plotting about how to ask their mom without their dad knowing. 

“Great! If you show up, I’ll be looking forward to it!” Bokuto grinned, and it made something warm in Dakora’s chest.

“You’re rather fluent in japanese for an american.” Akaashi said, and they hummed, moving onto that topic.

When they get home, they give a quick hum to their mother, grabbing the plate of food that’s already sitting on the table. The normal routine.

They eat in their room alone, hear their father and sister get home, listen to them pretend that they don't exist, wait until night, sneak out to the roof, smoke, and sleep. Their normal routine.

With a sigh, Dakora put in one of their minimalistic septum rings. They liked the way it made them look, but at the same time, it made them angry.

_ (“I don’t understand why I can’t get my ears pierced!” Taylor yelled downstairs, and the ravenette groaned, finishing adjusting their septum and moving onto their vertical labret piercing, “It’s not that big of a deal!” _

_ “Because you’re my only child, I’m not letting you pierce your body up!” their father yelled back. _

_ The piercing ring clatters to the floor.) _

While it made Dakora feel attractive, it served as a bitter reminder that their father didn’t care about them or what happened to them, didn’t even consider them his child.

A  _ bzt! _ from their phone shakes them out of their thoughts, and they grab their phone, raising a brow

—

**_shitty ace_ **

_ we can come and pick you up for the practice match if you'd like :0! _

_ well, walk you from,,, you know what i mean!! _

**_you_ **

_ thats fine _

_ meet me at the stop sign _

**_shitty ace_ **

_ that’s all the way at the end of the street?? _

**_you_ **

_ i know _

—

The text brought a smile to their face, no matter how infuriating they found the ace. Bokuto and Akaashi were a presence they wouldn’t mind getting used to, in all honesty.

The smile only grew as their chest warmed. They wouldn’t mind having friends.

The days pass surprisingly quickly, them hanging around the volleyball practice, but escaping right before the break, mainly just to bug Bokuto, who they usually get a series of  _ ‘>:((‘ _ texts from on their way back to the main buildings.

Eventually the day of the practice match came quickly, and Dakora is… oddly excited. They put on their best septum ring and labret bar, and ruffled/fluffed their black hair, grinning slightly at themself as they looked over themselves.

It was a basic outfit, just a loose black tshirt tucked into black pants with chains on the pockets and hoops.

Just as they’re pulling on a lightweight, white jacket to go with their vans, the door slings open, a head of blonde hair peeking in. The mere  _ sight _ of Taylor sets their hair on edge, a scowl morphing of their face.

Taylor was the exact opposite of them, pin straight blonde hair and baby blue eyes, tan skin and the perfect hourglass figure.

She’d be a ‘Heather’ of she wasn’t such a fucking bitch.

_ “Where are you going, freak?” _ she said, raising a brow. Her refusal to speak japanese for practice despite the fact that she mostly sucked at it irritated the younger sibling.

“Out.” they grunted, almost grinning at the irritated look on her face.

_ “No specifics? Sketchy. Not that I expect anything less from you.” _

With a sigh, Dakora glanced at their phone as it buzzed, unlocking it for just a moment to read the text from Bokuto.

“Good for you.” they murmured, moving around them as they exited. They felt the blonde’s eyes bore into their back as they left the house, jogging to the stop sign where they saw the ace and setter.

“Dakora-kun!” the owl chirped, grinning brightly, and the second year smirked, although it was more amused and playful that smug.

“Shitty ace.” they replied, and Bokuto pouted, looking at Akaashi pitifully.

“Hello, Dakora.”

“Akaashi-san,” they hummed, ignoring the spiker’s cries of bias as the three began to walk, “How are you?”

“I’m good, you?”

“I’m pretty good. Who’re you playing this practice match?” they asked, grunting as Bokuto set his chin on their shoulder, despite having to lean far down and walk with an awkward gait in order to do so.

“Nekoma, they’re talented players and Bokuto enjoys playing them. We might even go out for a quick bite to eat.” the fellow second year said, and they nodded.

“Well I’ll be looking forward to you guys’ win.”

It makes the two smile. 

They talk the whole way, the enby slowly loosening up and laughing. At some point Boluto gets his chin off their shoulder and loosely slings an arm around it instead. 

At some point in the future, Dakora would realize that Bokuto wasn’t only just naturally touchy feely, he had just deduced that they’d take to physical touch like a starved dog.

They get to the gym, as the ravenette looks around, humming. Nekoma, huh? 

The two walk them to the bleachers, talking about a ‘Kuroo’ and a ‘Kenma’ and Dakora just hummed and nodded along, silently upset that they were out of their element.

A couple of moments after they sit down, some rooster looking bitch walks up to them, grinning down at them. The way he almost…  _ stalked _ towards them once noticing the new addition to the two seemed almost feline.

“Bokuto, Akaashi! Is this them?” he asks, grinning like a cat as he seems to assess them, and they cant help but feel amused.

If Kuroo was a house cat, smart and pretty and  _ pampered, _ then Dakora was an alleyway dog, snarling, feral and witty.

“You’d be Kuroo then, catty-kun?” they questioned, and the nickname gets a glare from the ravenet and a cackle from Bokuto. 

“I am, Dakora, right? Nice to meet you.” he hums, “You sticking around after we win?”

“Yeah, these two are taking me out to eat.” 

“Since when-?! Actually, you probably can’t eat that much since you’re so tiny, so of course I don’t mind treating you!” Bokuto puffed up like an owl, and Akaashi merely sighed as the 5’3 teen gave a grin that spelled ‘trouble’ with a capital ‘T.’

“I’m glad, Shitty Ace.”   
  


Bokuto groaned mournfully as Dakora leaned back in their chair after setting their chopsticks down, smirking happily.

“My wallet is crying, sobbing even. I’m never paying for your food ever again, where do you even pack all of that?” the silver haired male asked, going to poke their stomach, though he yelped when the brunet caught his hand in their grasp.

“Let him go, Dakora.” Akaashi murmured, and they huffed, but complied, Kuroo snickering as the ace rubbed his slightly red hand pitifully.

Before anyone could say anything else, Dakora’s phone rang, and they raised a brow before answering, “Hello?”

_“ You’re_ _in so much trouble ,”_ Taylor snickered, and they frowned, ignoring as the other three tried, and apparently failed, to figure out what the english speaker was saying on the phone.

_ “Oh yeah, what’d I do?” _ they grunted, sitting up in their chair as the blonde hummed.

_ “Took dad’s money.” _

“I didn’t- _I didn’t take shit, you bubble headed blonde.”_ they hissed into the phone, already standing to grab their things, _“I didn’t even pay for anything!”_

“ _ Well that’s not what dad knows, good luck.” _ she hummed, though she didn’t yet hang up, Dakora storming outside as they pulled their jacket on, hearing the others follow behind them with a couple of confused calls of their name.

“You know what,  _ Taylor? _ Fuck you,  _ go suck daddy’s dick and tell someone who gives a shit, lock the door, see if I care.” _ they snapped, clicking the ‘end call button, before turning around apologetically. “Sorry about that, while we’re on the topic though, does anyone have a place I can crash at?”

The three boys stare at them quietly, and it's only then that they realize they probably have a pitiful expression on their face. Within a moment, they’ve corrected their expression to the chill, nonchalant one they usually wear.

Akaashi looks up from where he’s typing on his phone, “You can stay with me, Dakora.”

They give a relieved smile, “Thank you, Akaashi-san.” 

Akaashi’s mother is warm, welcoming, but they still tense as she shoo’s her son away, which he does so hesitantly, eyeing his new friend with a question in his eyes, and a slight frown as they give him a lazy smirk back, waving him off.

“Neh, you’ve got volleyball practice, Akaashi-san, go on.”

The woman sets the teen down, sets them a cup of tea in front of them, before a warm, worn hand resting comfortingly on their own calloused knuckles.

“Your parents don’t treat you real well, do they, Dakora?”

The soft, nurturing tone is enough to make their bottom lip wobble, and the flood dam breaks when the woman coo’s sympathetically, handing the teen some tissues.

“Oh dear, it’s okay, hush now. Our house is always open to you, okay? The spare key is under the plant by the door.” they sniffle, nodding, before picking up their tea and sipping it quietly.

At some point, they start talking, murmuring quietly about their life, and the woman— Emiko —listens, eyes warm with sympathy and care.

“You’re not a freak, you’re just a human, and you’re perfect that way.”

They hide their watery grin behind their teacup, eyes heavy with exhaustion and puffy from tears.

“Oh dear, let me go and grab you some clothes, okay? Give me your clothes and I’ll wash it real quick.” she hummed, and Dakora nodded, watching quietly as she got up and made her way to what the teen assumed was her room.

They looked up, seeing Akaashi quietly made his way towards them, sitting beside them.

After a beat of silence, he lightly sets his hand on their shoulder, squeezing softly.

“I’m sorry.”

The shorter one merely gave a soft smile, “It’s okay.”

Dakora changes, thanks Emiko, and curls on the couch, a large comforter wrapped around them like a cocoon. 

They sleep better that night than any other they’ve slept in their home.

They wake up to gentle hands brushing away the hair in their face, before lightly nudging them awake.

“‘m up, ‘m up.” the teen muttered, cracking open an eye to lightly glare at the male. The setter hummed, snatching the cover away, revealing the cold to the short teen.

“Ah-! Akaashi you fucker!” they yelped, making an aborted motion to grab him, before he moved out of the way. A pile of clothes hit them in the face, and they fumbled for a moment, cursing Akaashi’s name the whole way to the bathroom.

Dakora patted their chest, pausing. Had they gotten up and taken their binder off? They’ll have to ask in a second.

After changing into their school uniform and binder, they walked out, ruffling their own hair.

“I don’t want you to think we changed you, you got up around 3 am complaining about your chest hurting and threw it across the room.” Emiko said, grinning as the teen groaned in shame.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Dakora said, and the woman just laughed. 

“Don’t worry, hun. I debated washing it, but I didn’t have the instructions.”

They gave a grin, nodding thankfully, “Thank you. It may have shrunk and been impossible for me to wear of you did so… thank you.”

Emiko just smiles.

The woman sends them off with breakfast and a bento each, telling Dakora they’re welcome anytime of any day or night.

Bokuto wails about the unfairness, and Dakora and Akaashi merely share an amused look.

Having friends was something they could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! i hope you enjoyed the chapter!! please leave some feedback, and join the discord server :D!! have a good day!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this first chapter!! please leave kudos and comments, tysm!!!


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